


Jealousy/Envy

by Lukutoukka



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: And Always on Swoops, Coming Out, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Getting Together, Kent Cries A Lot, M/M, Minor Angst, Multi, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, as always, kent is a mess, mentions of Kent/Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukutoukka/pseuds/Lukutoukka
Summary: “I’m jealous, Swoops, so fucking jealous.” That’s Kent’s voice again, a little louder than usual, a lot wetter. “He’s just - out and nobody fucking cares and -”Or: Kent has this German rookie who happened to be out before coming to the NHL. Turns out, nobody cares, but Kent.





	Jealousy/Envy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ViciousHyperbolizer (B_Frizzy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Frizzy/gifts).



> This was originally Frizzy's idea, but they didn't have the time to write it and I figured something quick and cute would be good for me. Took me longer than expected, but here we are.

“He does what now?” Swoops stares at Emil. “That is so not okay.”

And.

He’d known that it wasn’t okay what Kent did. But still. Hearing Swoops say it, looking so appalled helps a lot.

“I’ll talk to him,” Swoops promises.

***

He doesn’t mean to snoop, he really doesn’t.

But he opens the door to the apartment to the voices of Kent and Swoops and maybe he closes the door a little more careful than usual, but they’re not exactly talking quietly either.

“I know you don’t have a problem with queer people, Kent,” Swoops is saying. “You didn’t blink when I came out to you, you had no problems with Amy ever and I’m fairly certain you actually paid all the expenses of Lily and Desi’s wedding. So what the fuck is going on with you and Emil?”

Emil is standing frozen in the front hall and he can’t _see_ , but what he can hear sounds a lot like - Kent crying?

“Was zur Hölle?” he whispers to himself. In the kitchen, Swoops is quietly talking, probably mumbling nonsense to calm Kent down and Emil _just_ decided that he should leave right this second, this isn’t for him to hear, when -

“I’m jealous, Swoops, so fucking jealous.” That’s Kent’s voice again, a little louder than usual, a lot wetter. “He’s just - out and nobody fucking cares and -”

Wait, what?

Jealous. Kent fucking Parson is jealous of him, because.

Because he’s _out_?

Realisation dawns on him just as Swoops asks: “You’re gay?”

He sounds as surprised as Emil feels, which. He’s Kent’s best friend, why didn’t he _know_?

“Obviously I’m not dealing very well,” Kent says and Emil thinks it’s meant as a joke, but Kent’s voice just about breaks his heart.

He can’t imagine not being out - not that he planned being one of the first more or less openly gay NHL players, it just kind of happened. He hadn’t exactly planned on playing NHL in the first place (what with the huge numbers of German players going to America) and no one on his team back in Germany had batted an eye when he’d come out to them. It had been an open secret in the league, but the press hadn’t really cared that much. When he’d been drafted, everybody was still concentrating on Jack Zimmermann and his boyfriend, so no one had paid attention to the few, mostly German, articles that mentioned his sexuality. So he hadn’t made it much of a topic either, mentioned his boyfriend when they were still together and went to a couple LGBT+ joints when he found the time to go out, but that had been that.

Still, he’s just Emil Poel, rookie from Germany, and no one payed all that much attention to him, unlike, say, Jack Zimmermann or Johnson from the Shooners, the two most high profile players to be out. He thinks about Kent coming out and shudders at the amount of press that would probably get.

The quiet from the kitchen is broken by Swoops, once again. “Why didn’t you say anything when I came out?”

Emil draws in a sharp breath, but Kent laughs a tired laugh.

“I’m out to four fucking people, Swoops, and the only one besides you I came out to was my psychologist. After half a year of sessions. And I pay her to poke at my feelings, man.”

“And the other three?”

“Include you. I think my mom knew before I did and then I just brought Jack home one summer. Speaking of, I think he got the memo at the latest around the time I started experimenting with blowjobs…” Kent trails off.

“Jack, as in -”

“Zimmermann, yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet again and Emil tries to quietly slip out the door again, when he fumbles his keys and drops them. He swears.

“Emil, is that you?”

“Yes.” He finally puts down his bag and walks towards the kitchen. He definitely needs to apologize, that wasn’t a conversation he was supposed to hear and he really should have announced himself. Or left.

“I’m sorry,” Emil says even before he’s made his way completely into the kitchen. “I should have left when I heard you ar-” He stops abruptly when he catches sight of Kent and Swoops: Kent is sitting on their table, socked feet on one of the chairs. His head is bare, hair even more of a mess than usual, his face is blotchy red. Swoops is leaning next to him, his shirt wet like Kent cried on him – which is probably what happened, Emil realises with a start.

“How much of that did you hear?” Swoops asks rather unamused, and Emil feels himself shrink a little.

“Most of it,” he says. “I think.”

“Well, my psychologist said that it might be good for me to be out to more people, so there’s that,” Kent says with a fake laugh, but before Emil can think of something to say, he’s up and out of the kitchen.

Emil and Swoops are quiet for a bit, before Emil breaks the silence.

“Man, Kent’s a mess,” he says. Swoops snorts. “And it doesn’t make the shit he’s pulled magically okay, but I get it, I think.”

“Yeah,” Swoops says. “Don’t feel obligated to deal with that whole mess. You’re welcome to come stay with me, if you want to.”

Emil thinks about it, but -

“Nah, I’ll give it a try. I’d feel shitty for leaving, after what just happened.”

Swoops nods. “Alright, but my door’s open if you need to get away. And feel free to give Kent shit right back if he gives you shit, yeah?”

***

The day after, Kent apologizes for his behaviour and promises to work on it and he really does better himself, too.

Still, Emil takes Swoops up on his offer occasionally, hanging out at Swoops’ place after or between training sessions, playing games, cooking together, napping or reading quietly – Swoops owns a lot of books and is more than willing to lend them out to Emil and then discuss them after Emil is finished. It’s fun. Surprisingly deep, depending on the book. A hell of a lot more interesting than anything he ever did with a book in school, with the possible exception of that statue he carved out of old books in art class. 

It’s very much not a thing that they have a routine, Emil tells himself, looking over his book at Swoops, their legs tangled together in the middle of the couch. He feels warm and content and could very much get used to this. He concentrates on is book again, shoving those thoughts away.

Teammates are off bounds.

Hard rule.

A hard rule that he’s goddamn tempted to break basically every day, come late regular season. If it isn’t Swoops all soft and warm and basically glowing, standing in his kitchen wearing a worn out, soft shirt, it’s Kent in _his_ kitchen, shirtless after his early morning run, tattoos and bruises alike on full display, blending into each other, obscuring each other, handing Emil a cup of coffee exactly the way he likes it – and Emil _wants_.

Wants to run his hands along Kent’s tattoos, soft and light so as not to hurt Kent, feeling Kent’s warmth, committing his tattoos to memory.

Wants all the cooking sessions with Swoops he can get, filled with laughter.

Wants these sessions to include kisses and cuddles.

Wants to find out what it takes to make all that carefully masked nervous energy bleed out of Kent.

Wants to wake up to the smell of coffee and the soft feeling he always gets around Swoops, but in Kent’s arms.

It’s frustrating, and a little confusing and actually very frustrating.

He takes it out on the ice. The coach is very happy with him, his ice time climbs a little, but both Kent and Swoops look at him a little – concerned, maybe?

He ignores their looks.

In fact, he tries not to look at them too much. _No fooling around with teammates,_ he reminds himself and aches, just a little.

Their last game before the playoffs is both a matinee game and basically meaningless, since they secured their playoff spot relatively early and won’t lose the top spot in the division unless the Sharks win their game with at least a 6 goal margin and the Aces lose their game. It’s unlikely, especially considering that they play against the Oilers, who lost any chance for a playoff spots very early and are now playing their last game in Vegas, which is to say they’re all basically in the off season already, headwise.

Unsurprisingly, this means that their top people get to rest and even Emil plays less time than usual. It almost feels more like a pre-season game than anything else, but that doesn’t change the excitement when Emil scores his first ever NHL goal.

After the game and post-game interviews, after he got the game puck and showered, he’s exhausted and bows out of drinks with the team that day, but on the way to his car, Swoops finds him and gives him no other choice but to say yes to dinner at Swoops’.

Which is how he finds himself leaning against the cooking island in Swoops’ house, barely keeping his eyes open, watching Swoops cook, listening to Swoops chatter without taking in what Swoops is actually saying, lulled by the warmth of the stove and the familiar cadence of Swoops talking about inconsequential things.

“Hey,” Swoops says and he’s suddenly so much closer than before, close enough that if he wanted to, say, kiss Swoops, Emil would only need to lean in and angle a little upwards to make up for that inch or two Swoops has got on him… He forces himself to look away from Swoops’ mouth, leans back a little, but Swoops follows his movement, comes a little closer still, radiating warmth.

“Tell me if this isn’t okay,” Swoops says and leans in, slow and careful, giving Emil every chance to say exactly that, to move away.

 _Scheiß drauf_ , Emil thinks and leans in, steadying himself on Swoops.

It’s a soft kiss and it feels like a natural expansion of their usual time together, unhurried and quiet. When it ends, Emil has to force his eyes open to look at Swoops, who at some point brought his hand up, cradling Emil’s face as if it’s something precious. 

“You should sleep a little,” Swoops says, his warm brown eyes showing only the slightest bit of amusement. “I’ll wake you up when the food is ready, okay?”

But he doesn’t let go of Emil, so he just leans in again and gets another kiss, before Swoops really sends him off to the couch.

***

 _His rookie_ , Kent thinks, nearly bursting with pride. That's _his_ rookie. Scoring his first NHL goal demands drinks! Emil’s been blowing off the others, citing his tiredness. He does look very tired too, but Kent lives with him, he'll get his drinks.

Only, when Kent gets to the parking garage, there's Emil with Swoops and Swoops talks him into dinner _so easily,_ so comfortable all up in Emil’s personal space and Kent stops breathing for a while.

He’d known that Emil and Swoops had been spending time together, but they were so comfortable together, almost as if –

Kent has to concentrate on his breathing, and when he looks up again, both Swoops and Emil are gone.

_Fuck._

He doesn’t know how to deal with… With _his_ Emil and _his_ Swoops in a relationship. Or – He doesn’t even know if they really are together or if he’s just imagining things.

For fucks sake, he isn’t even sure about his feelings!

By now, he’s made it to his car, so he gets into it. He _also_ doesn’t know where he wants to go, but – home, he should go home.

Instead, he finds himself in front of Swoops’ house, both Swoops’ and Emil’s cars in the driveway. He sits for a while, staring blindly at the house and the cars, without really taking anything in.

He should… He should probably talk. With his therapist. Maybe with his mom. With Swoops and Emil, in any case. It’s the grown up thing to do right? And he’s a grown up. Or something.

He gets out of his car and up to the door as slowly as possible, considers turning around more than once, but in the end, he rings the doorbell.

He still doesn’t know what to actually say or do.

As it turns out, the thing he does when Swoops opens the door is - start to cry.

They end up in the kitchen, next to whatever it is that is bubbling on the stove, smelling pretty good. Kent has the hiccups, but he doesn’t miss the way Swoops is looking at him. Assessing. Questioning.

“What’s going on, Kent?” Swoops asks and his voice is so gentle, Kent help but cry some more. Swoops waits him out.

Finally, Kent manages to string some words together in something that resembles a sentence: “You and Emil, are you – I … I saw you earlier, in the parking garage and –”

He brakes off again. He doesn’t know what he wants to say, what he wants to hear, what – Swoops steps closer, his intense gaze on Kent.

“I _think_ I know what’s going on here, but I can’t read your mind, Kent. You need to actually tell me. What’s going on with you, Kent?”

Kent swallows. Hiccups. Drops his eyes to the floor. “I don’t know, Swoops. I just … I don’t know!”

Swoops steps even closer, pushes Kent’s chin up with two fingers, his touch as soft as his eyes and voice. “I can’t read your mind, Kent. Tell me what’s going on, come on. You can do that, I know you can.”

“Swoops, I said _I don't know_.” Despite Swoops closeness, Kent raises his voice in frustration.

“And I told you that I can't fucking read your damn mind.” Swoops voice is still soft and fond, but there’s a bit of an edge in there. “You need to tell me what's going on. With your words. Write it down if you can't say it, whatever you need. But I can't just magically read your mind, Kent. Come on, work with me here.”

He reaches around Kent and comes up with a small notebook. The first page seems to be his grocery list. He pulls it off and offers the book to Kent. “Do you need time? Think about what you need to say? What is it?”

Kent wipes his hands across his eyes and takes the notebook. “Do you have a pen?” he asks and hates how quiet his voice is.

Swoops gives him a pen and turns to the stove. “Take your time,” he says. “Food’s going to take a while. Emil is asleep on the couch.”

Swoops sounds a little exasperated and yet there's something like fondness in his voice.

Kent takes his time and thinks about what he wants to say, needs to say – well, write down, really. He’s not certain he’d be able to say this out loud. In the end, the page reads, in his usual messy writing:

_~~mine~~_

~~_Are you and Emil together?_~~

_I saw you in the parking garage and I think I’m jealous._ _I think_ _I want to be with you. And Emil??  both of you?_

_P R O B L EM_

_confusion_

When he announces that he’s as finished as he’s going to be without at least an intense session with his therapist, Swoops pulls him into a hug.

“Well done, Kent. Now, let me see your words.” He keeps one arm around Kent’s waist while reading the few words Kent managed to write down and Kent feels strangely grounded. He closes his eyes, leans into Swoops and breathes a little easier.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long for Swoops to take it all in and like, do something. Kent had been expecting it, but he still wishes Swoops would have stood there a little longer with him.

“Alright, no freaking out, okay? Deep breath. I don't think this is as big a problem as you think it is. Here, you sit, I'll be right back. I’ll go talk to Emil, so we’re all on the same page here. Is it okay if I show him this?” Kent nods and Swoops smiles at him, drops a kiss on Kent’s forehead. “Get yourself some water, okay? I’ll be right back.”

With that, Swoops leaves the kitchen. Kent remembers that Emil is on the couch, which, thanks to the half open floor plan Swoops’ house has, is theoretically close enough to hear what people are talking about, even if it isn’t possible to see the living room from the kitchen.

But Kent doesn’t even try to listen in. He’s strangely exhausted, so he does actually get himself a glass of water, before sitting down on one of the bar stools Swoops has in front of the counter. Not for the first time, Kent wonders if Swoops decorated his house all by himself. It’s a distinct possibility.

He’s so distracted by his thoughts, or maybe he falls asleep a little, that he doesn’t hear Swoops come back with Emil at all. The first he becomes aware of the two of them is when someone is carding fingers through his hair. Kent wonders where he left his cap, before the situation catches up with him.

The someone with his fingers in his hair turns out to be Emil. He still looks a little sleepy and his hair is mussed up. He’s smiling, and Kent can’t help but smile back.

“So Swoops had a few interesting things to say,” Emil says and Kent wants to look at Swoops, but Emil’s gaze is so intense that he can’t bring himself to look away. Emil still has his fingers in Kent’s hair, and he leans into the touch.

“Is writing things down working for you?” Emil asks and Kent nods. “Good. Communication is key in a relationship.”

Relationship?

Before Kent’s brain can make sense of anything much, Emil asks “May I kiss you?” and Kent is nodding even before he’s completely finished processing the question.

Emil has to lean down, holding Kent’s face in both hands, angling it upwards. The kiss is soft, warm and slow and Kent has absolutely no problem admitting to hanging onto Emil for dear life. When they break apart, Kent is tempted to chase Emil’s lips with his own, but by now his brain has finally completely caught on and he is

confused.

Still.

“So, uh…” he starts.

But then Swoops is right there, leaning next to them, and when he notices Kent looking, he smiles at him and puts his hand on Kent’s back. Both of them are tall, which isn’t helped by the fact that Kent is still sitting on the bar stool, and crowding into Kent’s personal space, but Kent just feels safe and comfortable between them.

“Kent,” Swoops says, and Kent nods automatically. “If you want to, we’d be interested in a relationship with you.”

“Very interested,” Emil says.

Kent’s breath catches. “Me too,” he rushes out. “Really?”

“Really,” Emil says, and Swoops leans in to kiss Kent.

He could get used to this, he thinks, and tries to pull both of them closer. He isn’t very successful.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and/or kudos to make this author happy, or visit her on [tumblr](https://vanillivilovesreus.tumblr.com/)!


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